A Whiter Shade of Pale
by PhinnieLin
Summary: Because it's all about a man named Malfoy, and when you are Severus Snape, things can get ugly indeed. Rated PG-13 for the moment, rating subject to change later. Prologue up!


A Whiter Shade of Pale Ginzai  
  
Prologue: Beauté et la Bête  
  
1978  
  
The rain was falling in sheets of silver, pelting the unwary and soaking to the bone. It dripped and dropped through barren branches, slipped past to plop on the heads of those who hadn't the sense to get into the dry, of which there weren't many. There were even fewer who had no place to go to avoid the inclimate weather of northern England. To be quite honest, he wasn't certain if he was one of them.  
  
Severus Snape blinked upward, and ran a hand through his sodden hair in a vain attempt to wring some of the water from it. Water plipped downwards, missing his scalp just enough to dribble cold into the collar of his Muggle style shirt.  
  
It had been a day like this, when, cold and hungry, seventeen and without hope, he had seen Lucius for the first time. Newly graduated, without a place go to or a home to seek, and Lucius had stretched a hand, smiled his odd smile, and Severus had been warmed by it.  
  
Funny, he supposed, idly watching the fingers on one hand as they caught the rain and let it fall again. It really was humorous, the cycle now complete, and Lucius still standing in the rain, letting it soak his newly shorn hair, twisting the white gold engagement ring on one finger idly. The movement would have seemed a nervous one, had anyone else tried it. Lucius didn't look nervous. Lucius was calm, ignoring the drops that ran down cheek and into his eyes.  
  
"I'm married next week, Severus."  
  
Even his voice was smooth still. Severus said nothing, merely switched his gaze from the pale man to the street beyond.  
  
"We can't keep on this way, once I am. You understand, don't you?"  
  
A lightening quick shot of pain sliced through the numbness.  
  
"Understand, do I?" Severus said quietly. The rain slipped through his fingers; he couldn't keep hold of it.  
  
"Severus...please. Don't be this way." And Lucius did sound pained, as though he'd expected this to be a simple, cauterizing procedure, as the rest of their affair had been. And for Lucius, perhaps it was. The pain isolated itself somewhere under his chest making it hard to breathe. He wondered what would happen if he suddenly stopped; would Lucius care enough to press his lips to Severus' own, a lost parody of a kiss to restore a life that wished to flee? Or would he simply walk away?  
  
Lucius shifted, ran a hand through his silver hair. Why did he cut it, Severus wondered, and then remembered: Narcissa Decourt doesn't like long hair on men. Severus would like to have been cruel, and think that it was because it made her feel insecure, if the man she married were prettier than she, but the truth was that Lucius hadn't been pretty, even when his hair had fallen like shafts of pure light down past his shoulders. He'd always been much too hard for that, angular, and not even handsome, really, his features sharp and pointed and pale. He'd quipped once that they were beauté et la bête, but neither had been able to properly sort out who filled each role.  
  
"Sev...I've got to go." Lucius reached out long fingers to ensnare his chin, gently moving Severus' face upwards towards his own. A soft kiss to each cheek, the preferred Malfoy dismissal, so much more /personal/ then a crude good-bye, and then Lucius was straightening again, tucking his robes back into place. He smiled, and Severus felt himself dying with it, the pain coming back with waves of desperation, and he spoke again without being able to help himself.  
  
"Luc, don't do this. Don't just leave me, please, Luc," and he heard the begging, whining tone to his own voice and in that moment, loathed himself.  
  
Lucius was smiling again, not the gentle one of a moment ago, but a darker, sardonic quirk of his lips, and then Severus loathed him as well.  
  
"I think Narcissa would be against my having a catamite under general principles, Sev, but perhaps we could keep it from her. For a while, at least." Severus' eyes widened then narrowed. Lucius continued, oblivious to the hurt his words were causing. "We'd still have to take a break, of course. People will talk, and for all that she's French, Narcissa isn't stupid."  
  
"Screw you," Severus hissed, and pulled himself upright again. The Dark Mark on his arm burned with his fury.  
  
Lucius shook his head.  
  
"I'll wait for you, if you change your mind." He offered, eyes warm and glinting like starlight, just as remote.  
  
Severus clipped his teeth together, lips pressed shut and tight. The rain was suddenly colder against his face and shoulders, but it was a welcome change to the fire that seemed to rage inside him. Lucius stepped back, lifted his left hand in salute, then Disapparated.  
  
It took several moments for Severus to move. He felt like a statue, marble cold on the outside, blazing internally.  
  
"Wait for me?" He murmured, beetle eyes black and cold. "Fuck you, Lucius."  
  
When he Disapparated, he didn't know where he would go.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Thus begins yet another longterm fic project. I'm fond of this idea, and there's actually a cookie for it on my livejournal, if you want to see. The link to that is in my member description on my member page. Hope you enjoyed this hint of L/S angsty goodness! The real fun starts with chapter one.  
  
September 25, 2002 


End file.
